Page 110 of Muskoka Blue
“If ever you’re in Australia—”
“Thanks.” He couldn’t do this anymore. Any second the mask would slip. “Bye.”
He escaped the house and hunkered in his Jeep, turning on the engine to blast warmth through the vehicle. But he didn’t move. Instead, he watched his phone, waiting, waiting, for Ange’s text. As soon as it came, he’d hurtle straight back in there and kiss Sarah until she saw sense.
Two minutes passed. Five. Ten. He shivered. Cranked the heat higher. What would people say if they saw him out here? Would someone call the police?
“Come on, Ange,” he muttered between prayers God would soften Sarah’s heart.
The shriveled remains of his pride begged him not to text Sarah, but desperation demanded he did.I love you. Please talk to me. Don’t give up on us.
No answer came. Another five minutes passed, ten, fifteen, despair gnawing a little harder with each tick of the clock. Should he return? Pound on her door until she spoke with him?
His phone blinked with a message and, half-crazy with trepidation, he read it.
Sorry. She’s asleep. Will let you know when I talk to her.
Ange.
His heart splintered a little more. Looked like barging in there wasn’t gonna be an option. Maybe it reallywasover now.
His body trembled, as if it now finally understood the magnitude of what had just happened, the agitation spiraling outward from his very core. He blinked back emotion and gripped the steering wheel as if it held a lifeline to sanity. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be over. They couldn’t be done.God?
No answer. He heard nothing but a yawning howl of desolation.
Eventually, conscious he’d need to be at the airport in eight hours, he forced himself to drive through the snowy streets as the mocking sounds of “Happy new year” came from a few straggling revelers.
Once home, he huddled on his bed. But sleep wouldn’t come. He pulled the blankets closer, staring into blackness.
Happy new year? It was anything but.
Chapter 27
Everything about this felt wrong. Sarah stared, bleary-eyed, at the bleak cityscape as they drove to the airport. Last night’s conversation had replayed on a continual loop, rendering sleep impossible, her tears and memories of Dan’s strained face and broken voice constant reminders of the pain that she’d caused. Ange had tried to talk to her, but she’d pretended to be asleep. What could she say? Trying to be unselfish only seemed foolish now. And she was tired,sotired of keeping her emotions in check.
This morning’s rush had allowed no time to talk. Now, as they passed various landmarks, she tried not to recall the special moments that had meant so much. Not that restaurant, not the hockey games, nor the time up the CN tower—no, she wouldn’t think about that. Instead, she listened to non-committal comments about the weather and traffic until they finally made it to the parking station.
Their tickets were processed, and after hugs and more goodbyes, they boarded the plane. It was so cold. Too cold. She wrapped another too-thin blanket around her. Flicked open her phone where his messages still dwelled:I love you. Please talk to me. Don’t give up on us.
She loved him. Which was why she’d done this. For his sake.Lord, help him see that.
“You okay, princess?” her father asked.
But the reminder of the pet name just made her tears leak more.
* * *
Dan openedhis eyes and stared out the plane window. Everywhere was stark, snowy whiteness. His eyes burned at the brightness, so he shut them again. His eyes were too tired from no sleep, his brain too blurry from grief, and his heart…
His heart was numb, like deep frostbite had taken hold overnight. He couldn’t coherently answer any questions from his teammates about last night, so he’d plugged in his music and feigned sleep. Fortunately, some of the others seemed to be tired from last night too, snoozing in their wide, private plane seats on the short flight to Montreal.
But he bet nobody craved rest as much as he did.
* * *
“Sar? Are you awake?”
Sarah blinked sleepily at her mum, then gazed around the cabin. She’d forgotten how long these flights took. By the time all their connections were accounted for, it felt like they’d been traveling in a glorified tin can for days.